Chapter Text
When you were merely a child your mother liked to read you bedtime stories every night. Most of them would be the same tale, only pretending to differ from another, be it by making the protagonist a princess or a cat or having the plot play out in a kingdom or rundown town. Whichever it was, it would always have an underdog be berated by others only to achieve great success and approval which then would lead to being recognized by those who had no hopes for them. The older you got, however, the more you realized that in life it was not the success that lead to support but support that lead to success. And you had none.
-This, - your father seethed as he scanned over your exam results, - is unacceptable. You somehow became a scholar at the Sumeru Akademiya and these are the results you are achieving?! – he scoffed, tossing the envelopes with your results to the side. -The only reason they haven’t kicked you out yet is that you’re too lazy to even break the rules set by the Grand Sages. Still, at this rate, why are you even sucking our wallets dry?
-I told you I can drop out if you like,- you sighed- I don’t care. Save the Mora.
-Right, and how will you make a living after that, hmm? Are your stupid scribbles supposed to be your source of income?- naturally, your mother joined in. You clicked your lips at her jab, obviously caused by her having caught you sketching on the sidelines of your Kshahrewar notes the day before. –that’s what you want to be doing? Drawing caricatures of tourists in the holiday season? Sitting outside in the sun with charcoal staining your hands and strained wrists from all the work? Besides, even summer here in Sneznhaya is cold. You’re too comfortable a person to withstand such working conditions. We told you a million times, study now and suffer to have a stable life later.
-Why have a life at all? I didn’t ask to be born, let me waste my life as I please, –you muttered, which only agitated them both more.
The argument escalated, of course, as it usually did. All-in-all, your parents were correct in one matter- you were lazy to a fault. An education was not your highest priority, not even something you were remotely interested in, but you couldn’t say art was your passion either. Were it one, you’d have painted something already, you’d experiment with color and think up new compositions or sketched from life as all great artists did. But reality didn’t inspire you. A sketch of an eye on the sidelines of your notebook…was that really something to be called art? As usual, after such an argument you were exhausted and went straight to your childhood room. It was as messy as you left it the day you were miraculously accepted into the Akademiya; because yes, that wasn’t a success, that was a miracle. And even if it was your own achievement, was it an achievement at all if there were so many different people who have done the same? Such thoughts accompanied you into a light sleep, in which you sought escape from tiresome reality, and yet even in it you saw the room your parents were renting you in Sumeru. You could have stayed there for the holidays, but what use would it have? You didn’t manage to get many friends there because you didn’t bother. And why would you have. Everyone there was a stuck up prick regardless, so you thought, they would only have judged you for your results and Sneznhayan origin, as they berated the desert people who didn’t come from afar. And in the end even that was but an excuse. You had nothing to brag about not because of difficulty or obstacles, but because you didn’t achieve anything more than an acceptance letter and a tear fell down your cheek as you’d dreamt of not waking up. Cowardly, you wanted out because of how ashamed of yourself you felt.
Still, the next morning you got out of bed and dragged yourself downstairs to where your parents were already chatting. They looked as if nothing happened, because of course, to them nothing did. Family arguments only ever affected your mood and selfishly, you would apologize again and again to calm your nerves, even if it was never you who started said arguments in the first place.
-…I’m sorry about yesterday,- you mumbled and swayed in your place, eyes heavy with sleep. But you didn’t sit down by the table, not yet, as you felt like you couldn’t until you and them made up.
-Don’t apologize to us,- your father huffed, already sipping on his morning tea.- Just think about what in the world are you going to do with your life.
-And the answer better not be nothing,- your mother added, slamming a plate with żurek on the table so hard some of it splattered on the tablecloth.- now eat.
The atmosphere during breakfast was so tense you wished you stayed in bed or, better yet, not have woken up at all. But you kept that sentiment to yourself and swallowed spoonful after spoonful of soup and your tears as a side dish. Usually, this heavy air would dissipate the moment it was time for you to head back to Sumeru, because your parents didn’t want to part with negative feelings between them and you. Until then, they kept you on your toes, picked on your smallest mistakes and dissected your words letter by letter to mock you and you knew why- because you failed them and this was their way of blowing off some of the frustration that caused. You could only be lucky they didn’t call you names outside of the petty arguments, it gave you the space to assume these remarks were only made in a state of negative emotion and don’t reflect what they actually think of you. For now, you knew, you’d have to stand the smirking, the raised brows and the silent treatment until it was time to say goodbye again. But this time was different.
-You do know you’re not going back to the Akademiya after what you said yesterday, right?- your father asked suddenly with a great calm after he sipped the last sip of his tea.
-What?- you paused and blinked your eyes at the man in bewilderment. He had to have been kidding. Despite the certainty that this was said in jest, your hand stilled around the spoon.
-You have no idea what to do with your life for now, so who knows if that Kshahrewar degree will be of any use to you. And it’s too pricey to be your side hustle,- he continued.- So, until you have found something you want to do, you’ll work.
Your parents had said such things before that morning, but usually you managed to argue back and keep your scholar position. It wasn’t that you particularly cared about the Akademiya and your studies, but that dropping out would mean you failed your parents completely, not just disappointed them. Because perhaps, deep down, you foolishly believed your mother’s bedtime stories, that one day you’d find the strength to struggle against your weakness and win. That you’d get a degree and make your family proud. But, if they made you come back to Snezhnaya, that would never be achievable. You had no passion for studying, but it was your golden ticket to recognition and only chance to succeed, even if you were, in truth, wasting it. It was moments like these when you held onto the one thing that could potentially count as an achievement even if you doubted its credibility- that you managed to get into the Sumeru Akademiya.
-I know my results are poor, but I’ll retake my exams and do better, you know I can,- you protested.
-It’s not about the results,- said your mother as she wiped her hands into her apron. Arguing about your future, your last sense of achievement, she was baking a cake.- You said we should let you waste away. We won’t. Once you taste real work, you’ll want to get back into the Akademiya and we’ll pay for your course again. But you need to want it and not take it for granted.
Feeling defensive about them using your own words against you was childish, you knew, arrogant and childish, but it stung. Right now, seeing their calm faces, you knew they had decided and you had no say in it.
-…where do you even want me to work? Me? You know, the good-for-nothing me?
-You’re not good for nothing,- the woman sighed.- Inexperienced, yes. We sheltered you too much and now you make up issues in your head, excuses on why you’re not using the resources you were given.
-And you’ll go somewhere where you’ll have no choice but work, so you'll get that missing experience in no time,- your father said simply and stood up just to grab a biscuit from the box on a shelf near the table, but to you, him standing up was him finalizing his decision.- The Fatui, of course. There you’ll learn to discipline yourself and get back on your feet.
-Are you insane?
You couldn’t help but let those words out, because truly, there was no other way to comment that. To go from being a scholar to a Fatui recruit was degrading. That was where the hooligans and nationalists went, the military fanatics who sought only to break other people’s noses and to praise the Tsaritsa thoughtlessly. That was what your parents had planned for you.
-Me and the Snezhnayan military force? I can’t do that. I don’t think I can hold a gun, let alone fire it, and I won’t fit in with the soldiers anyway, so there’s no point-
-You apparently don’t fit in with the scholars either,- your mother kindly reminded and returned to the kitchen.
-We already sent out your application form to the Zapoylarny palace and you know they accept pretty much anyone,- your father concluded and he, too, started to leave, as he was headed to the front door.- just as the Akademiya does, you did get in after all.
And with that, your parents were in high spirits again while you wallowed in misery. Whether this was a twisted act of care or a sadistic way of berating you, you didn’t know. No amount of reason or tears would sway your mother and her collected exterior made your desperation seem like insanity. And thus, a week later, you only returned to Sumeru to take your clothes and supplies back home, you even ran into the new boarder on your way out. And just like that, your Akademiyan life came to an end and a life as a Fatuus was about to begin.